


Made In His Image

by ragefear



Category: Shall We Date?: Obey Me!
Genre: A little bit of violence, Angst, Other, Reader Suffering (tm), Unhealthy Relationships, Vague BDSM themes, as a treat, i can have a little bit of heresy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:41:15
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26458102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ragefear/pseuds/ragefear
Summary: Lucifer says he loves you. He believes it. In time, you come to say the same.
Relationships: Lucifer (Shall We Date?: Obey Me!)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 70





	Made In His Image

Demons do not know how to love.

In truth, neither do angels--for them, ‘love’ is enacting the will of their creator, from service to blessing to righteous wrath against the sinful. The love of an angel, turned upon a human, is alien. It can be as much blessing as curse, and it is just as likely to kill, or cause madness.

Those who are natural-born know this. They entertain lust, obsession, loyalty, but never love. It is a laughable concept. But those who are fallen know what it is to lose the guiding force of their life. They know, or they believe they know, how to love, and now that they can turn their attention to mortals, they can have what they were once denied.

Lucifer will later describe to Diavolo, half in jest, that your arrival into the Devildom was “love at first sight”. You fascinate him. Despite your… mortalness, despite your fragility and your fruit-fly lifespan, you carry such a strong sense of self. You have pride. Yes, he of course knew of the various human vices and the long-standing practice of temptation and pacts in exchange for souls, but he had never had much interest in this himself. To see it in person, to see you in person…

(he now has an inkling of why his sister fell)

To any of his brothers, it is obvious, though they dare not speak of it when he is within earshot. He takes you under his wing, through to you, it feels more as if a target has been placed upon your back. Lucifer is not subtle in his manipulations. He simply knows that what he wants is always the correct and proper thing. Anything, or anyone, that gets between him and what he wants is so clearly in the wrong. 

(one time, that ‘anyone’ was mammon, who protested at the tears he knew you cried when you thought nobody could hear)  
(‘That can’t be right, humans aren’t supposed to cry like that so often, are they?’)  
(but mammon had made the mistake of thinking you were his possession)  
(his own idea of love is no more forgiving)

(he disappears, and when he returns, he is no longer the friend you thought him to be)

Satan can see this for what it is. He was never an angel, he does not know ‘love’, and he never has. His eyes shine with mirth as he watches his eldest brother slowly destroy his Lord’s pet project. For a long while, he has no need to play pranks on Lucifer, for Lucifer is constructing a grand jest all on his own.

“Work harder,” Lucifer demands of you. “If you are not perfect, you are a failure. If you are not giving your all, you are not working hard enough.” 

His punishments for falling below his excruciating standards are severe. You work your fingers near to bone, cleaning out the kitchen until it shines, but when Lucifer looks upon your work, and calls it “good” with the subtlest of smiles, you can’t help but smile back. Lucifer had always been beautiful, and his fall has not changed this. 

His love comes in many forms, none of which you recognize, not at first. Not as you chase impossible goals and beg for mercy as you fail. But after months of struggle, of the other brothers distancing themselves from you, you score your first 100% on a test, and Lucifer’s approval soothes all your pain. His gloved hand strokes so tenderly through your hair, and you finally see it.

But all too soon it is gone. You dig deep to find a well of determination you didn’t know you were capable of, fighting for that next moment of approval, that next second of acknowledgement. You shut everything else out, narrowing your focus. Next time, he will say “well done,” and your heart will soar into your chest.

Lucifer is careful to build you up the way he wants. He draws out your pride in the easiest of ways. You find a pair of soft black gloves on your pillow one day, tied with a red ribbon. When you wear them, he compliments your hands.

(it helps that they hide the scars)

In half a year, you stand tall at his side, with a cold gaze mirroring his own, even though you know the pain of the whip just as well as the comfort of your demon’s arms. In eight months, Diavolo will comment on your improvement in demeanor, and you will reply with a polite nod and a subservient smile. By the end of your exchange, you have lost the will to return to your home--in fact, you would not claim to have a will at all.

When Lucifer tells you he loves you, you say it back, whether it comes in the midst of a punishment or a reward. You are his second voice, his second pair of hands, and in his eyes, he loves you more than he has ever loved before.

After all, is there any truer form of love than making something in your own image?


End file.
